Ciggy was pretty sure Robby's threat to quit if he didn't hire security guards was a huge bluff. Robby hadn't worked in years, and judging by the performances he had given the day before, "Gun Butt" was going to put him back on the map. Truth was, Robby needed the movie more than Ciggy did.
But did Robby know that? As far as Ciggy could tell, the Iowa actor was so drugged out he didn't know which way was up.
But while Robby may have needed the movie, Ciggy WANTED it. So he folded on a winning hand because he simply wasn't willing to risk it all.
"I'll get you your damn guards," he told the actor. "Fuckin' meshugunah."
As he walked back to the set, Ciggy had no idea how to solve the financial burden the overtime would put on the film that was already three hundred thousand dollars in the hole, so he decided to not think about it at all. There were other problems that could be solved, and he would concentrate on those instead.
And that was all that producing was, he knew. Solving problems. Solve the ones you can, and hope the ones you can't go away on their own. Like coaching a football game, you just had to keep the ball moving down the field.
He whipped out his cell phone and called a security company he had used in the past, and offered to pay a rate above premium if they could get there in less than two hours. What did he care? Robby was paying for it. Just keep the ball moving. He apologized to the paparazzi as he explained that it was a closed set, and they'd all have to leave. Then Ciggy, displaying a keen insight into the media, instructed the A.D.s to make sure the reporters actually left as they were told. Just keep the ball moving.
Then he assembled a meeting between himself, Norman, Savannah, the first A.D., the cinematographer and the head gaffer and let them know what was going on.
"I'm gonna cut that motha-fuckin' motha-fucka," said Savannah as she got up.
"You'll do no such thing," Ciggy said as he put his hand on her shoulder and made her sit down once again.
"Fuck you, old man," she said as she threw his hand off her. "This is my fuckin' movie, and no damn actor's gonna fuck me up the ass."
"No," Ciggy retorted with a smile. "This is MY fuckin' movie, and no one wants to fuck you up your fat ass anyway."
The others present were silent. They all knew Savannah to be a fighter, and them was fightin' words. The young director stared down the old man, and the old man didn't blink. He had done mob movies with real mob consultants, and he had taken them on. This girl had too much to lose, he knew, and she was smart enough to know it.
It was only a few seconds, but it seemed to all concerned like hours. Finally, Savannah laughed. Then everybody else did, too, and then they got to work.
The most efficient schedule they could come up with to shoot around Robby was very, very inefficient. They would start with close-ups, then move to the master shot later, which was utterly backwards. It wasn't the first time a movie had to work backwards for an asshole actor, but it almost always made for a very mediocre scene.
By the time Cheyenne arrived on the set, she had already heard about Robby's alleged paranoid delusion, and she felt horrible. She realized that she was the only person on the set who believed him because she was pretty sure her brother was somehow behind it all, and she wanted to kill him.
Then the film's hero glided onto the set with the grace and agility of a young Barishnikov, fully pumped because he had been working out all day. Axel Lincoln was twenty-five and looked fifteen. It was only his tenth day on his first film, yet from the beginning he handled the pressure with a genuine smile and a warm appreciation. If it fazed him that he had never met his villainous counterpart, or that he now had to play a major scene without the infamous Robby present, no one noticed. He was composed, friendly and kind, and nothing was about to alter his performance one iota. The fact that his performance wouldn't be exceptional, no matter what, never entered into it.
He told Cheyenne how fantastic she looked, thanked Ciggy and Savannah for the opportunity (presumably for the hundredth time) and asked the director where to stand.
Savannah walked the two actors through the scene with the continuity girl standing in for Robby. Their performances, although competent, were dull and uninspired, clearly lacking the magic they easily could have had if Robby had been present.
Similarly, Savannah's initial plan of sweeping handheld camera movements had to be chucked, and she had no choice but to adopt the more conventional shot-countershot approach.
Robby was despised now more than ever, and his plot to piss everyone off was growing more successful by the minute.
That was around when Gloria arrived to check out her new potential clients. The truth was she had no intention of signing Cheyenne or Savannah -- she had only told Artie she wanted them because she needed names to give him. She had seen them at work the other day, before Robby arrived, and she wasn't blown away by either. But Ciggy had been all over her to come give them another look-see. In a business that's run on favors and payback, she saw no reason not to put the experienced producer in her debt.
As she watched take after take, she was particularly unimpressed with Axel Lincoln's lackluster performance. Axel was represented by William Morris because they, unlike Mammoth, handled the the New York theater. The brilliant dancer would always make them money on Broadway. If he had been any good, Gloria might have tried to steal him, but he wasn't so she took the high road.
Yet despite the all-around mediocrity that she witnessed, Ciggy insisted that Cheyenne was a star-in-waiting. The next Halle Berry. Gloria still didn't see it.
Oh, sure, Gloria could see that she had the looks. But in terms of the depth or ability, she wasn't even close.
But Ciggy knew better, so he turned to the young agent and said, "I'll show you the dailies. You'll see how great she is. She just needs someone better than this lummox to play off of."
Agents are NEVER invited to dailies, and Ciggy was notorious for keeping them to himself. One story has it that while producing one of his few studio films, he refused to send dailies to the studio president. When they threatened to fire him, Ciggy refused to back down claiming the president was too stupid to realize how brilliant they were. Ciggy was fired shortly thereafter, and his lackey replacement sent every frame to the head office. The studio president anointed it as the worst film in the history of cinema.
It was dePaulo's first studio film, his third with Ciggy, and it was nominated for seven Oscars, including best picture. dePaulo, who had been nominated for best director and best original screenplay, had every intention of telling the world that he owed it all to Ciggy. But he didn't win. The film received awards for cinematography, supporting actress and score... and none of the recipients of the statue ever mentioned Ciggy's name.
Within two days, that same studio president gave dePaulo a multi-picture deal.
Gloria was honored that Ciggy would show her his dailies, and she knew it would make her look great to her many superiors back at Mammoth. She wondered what was going on between Ciggy and Cheyenne, but she knew not to ask. Cheyenne was unbelievably beautiful, and Gloria had heard about Ciggy's penchant for prostitutes.
Could it be the old fart had fallen in love with one of them?
"She needs Robby to get her going," Ciggy continued to explain. "So does Savannah, come to think of it. But you'll do good for yourself taking on both of 'em."
"Where is Robby?" Gloria asked.
So Ciggy filled her in on the stalker that Robby had seen lurking about and his demand for added security. She had heard the same story the night before, and she was starting to worry. Like everyone else except Cheyenne, the young agent assumed it to be simply a paranoid result of Robby's cocaine use.
"I should go talk to him," she said.
"No, let him come out," said Ciggy, who simply wanted Gloria to see the brilliance of his soon-to-be-bride. "If Robby wants to wallow in his loneliness, let him."
"Maybe I can get him out here," she said.
"And maybe you can't," he replied. "I'm trying to teach him a lesson. If you go in there and fuck it up, you won't be invited to dailies."
Gloria was pretty darn sure the producer was bluffing -- he seemed desperate for her to see Cheyenne at her best. Still, the agent had no desire to call him on it, just as Ciggy had had no desire to call Robby's bluff earlier that day. And that's the key to show business, my loyal readers -- it's not whether you're right or wrong, it's simply about keeping your eye on the prize.
Cheyenne's second take was a little better than her first. Savannah commended the actress far beyond what was deserved, hoping it would make her even better on the third.
"Cheyenne!" Ciggy shouted after the sad display. "Get your black ass over here."
He had never spoken to her that way before, and the crew was as surprised as she was. They all knew what was going on between them -- there are no real secrets on a movie set -- and they could only surmise that the two had had some kind of fight the prior evening.
Cheyenne approached Ciggy, much against the protests of Savannah. Ciggy had seen how Robby had gotten the actress where she needed to be, and he knew that a Mammoth agent would only take her on if she got there. If he was right, he would explain it that evening and get a blowjob for his troubles.
If he was wrong, of course, he would most likely lose her forever.
But he loved her enough to take the risk.
"Our deal's off," Ciggy whispered into Cheyenne's. "I never knew you were such a pathetic actress or I never would have made this deal with you."
"I thought I was doing okay," she said, holding back her tears. "Savannah said--"
"Savannah don't know shit," he said.
"Come on, Cig," Norman jumped in to protect the hurt girl. "Take it easy."
"Stay out of this, money-man," he contemptuously snapped at his partner, then turned back to his girlfriend. "You stunk up the joint yesterday, and you're stinking it up now. I'm gonna have Savannah write you out of this movie because I'm not gonna let you fuck up my future, you damn whore. So finish the goddamn scene and then you're released from your contract, and my life."
So, in tears, Cheyenne returned to her mark. Savannah threw Ciggy an evil glare, and Ciggy only winked back. It was appalling to the black director that whitey would treat a sister so, and she bent over backwards to refill Cheyenne with confidence. But it only confused the young actress even more, which was just what Ciggy had hoped.
In the next take, Gloria saw what Ciggy had been saying. The beautiful girl had a vulnerability that touched Gloria's hardened heart. The young agent couldn't imagine it came from Ciggy's meanness, and attributed it to the director's way with actors.
She immediately wanted them both!
And the morning progressed accordingly. By mid-afternoon, a team of retired L.A.P.D. detectives and police academy dropouts arrived on the set to protect the film's villain from what all believed to be his imaginary assailant.
Robby was in makeup less than a minute later, and on the set only fifteen minutes after that. Everyone expected him to be coked to the gills and even meaner than he had been the day before. Axel, who had spent much of the day hearing what a nightmare the ex-TV star had been, found the behavior reprehensible and had every intention of taking the man on at the first sign of abuse. Cheyenne, on the other hand, was simply terrified to see him. She was also guilt-ridden because she felt responsible for his being stalked, and she was exhausted by the abuse that Ciggy had flung upon her. Basically, she was falling apart.
Ciggy knew that the stage couldn't be set any better, and that Cheyenne's performance was about to go through the roof.
But Robby figured he had done enough damage for one day, and that they probably all hated him enough. Besides, if he could lull them all into a false sense of security, it would make him seem all the more erratic when he returned to his evil ways.
So he played the happy drunk and poured on the charm. He complimented Savannah on her outfit, and told Cheyenne how inspiring it was to work with her. He hugged Gloria, gave her the appropriate Hollywood double cheek kiss, and whispered into her ear how sorry he was about the night before. He apologized to the crew en masse for the holdup, then thanked Ciggy and Norman for supplying the armed guards, giving them each a big heterosexual hug. After that, he was funny and witty to everyone's delight. Although they were all still a tad suspicious, they wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
It was the first time Robby was meeting Axel. He introduced himself with great humility and thanked the young dancer for letting him be in "his" movie. They joked and kibitzed for a few minutes, and Axel was totally won over.
By the time the A.D. got them into their positions, there was a new electricity in the air. A feeling of optimism and warmth -- it was going to be a great shoot after all. I know it may seem preposterous to you that someone could change a mood so quickly, especially if you've never been on a movie or TV set before, but that's exactly what actors do. That's why we pay money to see them. The good ones can make us feel anything they want, and Robby was one of the greats.
"I've been on a few sets before, big budget studio ones, too, but I've never seen anything like this," Gloria whispered to Norman.
"This is my first picture," he whispered back. "It's precisely why I wanted in."
"Let's shoot the rehearsal," shouted Savannah who was as swept away by the new energy as anyone. "Roll it!"
"Speed," shouted the sound guy.
"Camera rolling," shouted the operator.
Savannah waited a beat before saying action. Even the jaded film crew leaned forward in their seats to see what magic was about to transpire.
At that moment, two men blew past the armed guards at the doorway. They were the only two that the security team were not permitted to stop.
The two detectives who had questioned Robby only days earlier marched onto the set without caring that they were ruining the shot. Both the old detective and the young flashed their badges in Robby's face and announced, "Robby Rockman, you're under arrest for the murders of Randolph McCoon and Michael Tavers."
"Shit!" screamed Ciggy.
"This is a joke, right?" Robby asked incredulously. "Who the hell are Tavers and... who?"
"This is an outrage!" Norman shouted, jumping out of his chair as if the Constitutional Amendment to abolish slavery had just been repealed.
The young detective ignored the African-American and cuffed Robby as he read the actor his rights. Norman grabbed the warrant out of the older detective's hand.
"These are nothing but trumped up charges to save an unscrupulous D.A. from embarrassment!" yelled the famous civil rights lawyer.
"Who the hell are you?" asked the detective as his partner patted Robby down.
"I'm his attorney," Norman answered with contempt. "And if you harm one hair on this boy's head, I will have your ass on a spit!"
"Then you can meet him at the station, attorney," the older cop snapped back with an equal dose of disrespect. "Till then, get the hell out of my face."
"Don't let these bastards in my trailer!" Robby shouted at Norman because his trailer was exactly where he wanted those bastards to go. It was where he had left the baggie of cocaine that the Hellfire members had given him at breakfast. Robby simply couldn't conceive of being tried and convicted for the murder of two people whose names he had never heard -- but as long as he was being brought in anyway, he saw no reason why his cocaine shouldn't be found and the story fed to the press.
"Not another word, Robby!" Norman commanded him, then turned to the police. "Unless you have a warrant, you aren't going anywhere near his trailer."
The two detectives didn't have a search warrant -- had never even considered getting one -- so they, along with Robby, sighed at the missed opportunity. Then they began to drag Robby out of the faux medical office.
That was the precise moment that Robby's terror set in. No, he still couldn't conceive of any murder charge sticking, but it suddenly occurred to him that they could put him back in that God-awful holding cell!
"Norman!" he screamed as he was dragged away. "Don't let them put me in that cell! Norrrrr-mannnnnnn!"
And he was gone.
Norman grabbed his briefcase and headed out behind them, stopping at Ciggy's chair only long enough to quietly say: "I'll be at the Van Nuys jailhouse if you need me, and eventually I will represent him in court. I suppose I'll re-invest my fee into the picture."
And Ciggy knew this additional delay would put the production even further over budget... but this time it was well worth it.
"Excellent," he muttered to himself as he gained a brand new respect for his lawyer-partner, and wondered how the hell Norman had pulled it off. "Fuckin' excellent."
*** Up Next: "The Jailhouse Revisited" ***
The main characters in this e-novel are fictional and are not intended to portray or resemble any actual individuals, whether living or dead (except for Jeff Abugov who is a real screenwriter, director and producer.) Although certain real people and companies are mentioned in this e-novel, all of the events are fictional and are not intended to portray or resemble any actual events.
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